Medium Rare
by Bloble
Summary: Short on money, and with two mouths to feed, the bounty hunter Natalia Kaminski accepts a mission beyond her usual pay grade.
1. Chapter 1

_"Forget about magecraft, kiddo. Even the best chef in the world can't un-cook a burnt steak."_

* * *

Sunny's Diner got its fair share of customers. Sunny herself knew each and every one by name; they didn't get many visitors, and there weren't too many other places for competition. The regulars knew hers packed the best breakfasts in town. But today was a Monday, so she expected the morning to pass slowly and quietly.

Then the boy came in.

No, he was a man, but that young face could've been mistaken for a teen's were it not carrying the weight of the world. He stumbled over the front carpet and righted himself just in time, managing to make it to the front counter in one piece.

Sunny had never seen him before, but that wouldn't stop her.

"What'll it be, hun?" she asked.

The man blinked at her. Just as she was beginning to consider repeating herself, he mumbled something with a thick accent she couldn't place.

"Sorry?" she said.

"Eggs," he repeated, clearer. "And bread. And sausage please."

"Want 'em scrambled or sunny-side up?" He just stared blankly at her. "Okay, I'll surprise you. Here, grab the window seat." He certainly needed the sun. Poor bloke was as white as fresh paper. Even his once-dark brown hair had paled.

The young man nodded slowly and shuffled to the proffered table like a zombie. Sunny sent up a quick prayer and got to work on the dish herself, wondering the whole time how long it'd been since they'd had such a strange newcomer.

When the man got his breakfast, the eggs were scrambled and dusted with spices. The sausages had been expertly diced and fried. It also came with a cup of rich coffee. He looked up at Sunny, the question on his lips.

She beamed proudly. "Best in the world, stranger. Welcome to Sunny's. I'm yours truly, and this one's on me."

For a moment the veil seemed to lift from the man's eyes, and he smiled back, thanking her with a few whispered words. As Sunny shuffled back to the counter, she saw him shoveling down food with renewed vigor and mentally patted herself on the back for a job well done.

But curiosity was like a cat; it couldn't be kept locked up easily. Sunny sidled over to the strange man's desk once he finished his coffee, with words of refills already spilling from her mouth. He graciously accepted.

"So what brings you to Black Spot?" she asked as she poured him another cup of the special blend.

"I, uh…"

"Oh, forgive the pryin'!" Sunny blushed through her wrinkles. "Just don't get too many visitors, so we're a bit curious is all. I'm from all the way in the good old US of A, myself, so I know how it feels to be the new girl in town."

"I, er, wanted to get away for a bit," he admitted, opening up against his better judgement. "There are so many things happening in Europe. It is hard to keep up." Now that she heard it more closely, he sounded German. Old memories of World War II came to mind, and Sunny chased them away with a broom. It'd been decades, and she wasn't the kind to keep grudges.

"Well you came to the right place!" she said triumphantly. "Don't mean to toot my own horn, but you'll not find a cozier little town on this side of God's Green Earth! Folk here don't trouble themselves with much, so you'll get some looks, but that's about it."

"I hope so," the man said. "We just need somewhere to settle down. I can't work on my research when everyone's trying to catch me. There is no free time, constant interruptions, people trying to get their hands on discoveries…" He trailed off, eyes far away, leaving it to Sunny to steer the conversation back on track.

"So I heard a 'We' in there," she said. "Got yourself a sweetheart? Lookin' for a nice, long honeymoon?"

"N-no!" he stammered. "She's my sister. We are close, but that is all. She's out now, exploring."

"Well I'll be. Now I feel like a right fool."

"It's fine." Despite himself, the boy couldn't help but smile as Sunny's friendly nature rubbed off on him. "You're not the first to make that mistake."

"Maybe I'll be the last, though. Now what was that about research? You one of them scientist types?"

"In a way," was all he said. "More like a… student, working on my thesis so I can graduate."

"Well no wonder!" Sunny laughed. "If you don't mind me sayin', you look like you wouldn't get twenty-four hours of sun if you put together every day o' the year! Now you just sit there and eat your breakfast, and then go and get yourself a nice tan. It'll do you good, believe me!"

Despite the man's initial hesitation, he was quickly drawn in and they conversation continued. No new customers came in, and Sunny ended up sitting down for an early lunch with the new arrival as well. It was only when the clock struck twelve that she realized how long it'd been.

"I must be going," the man said. "Thank you for the talk. I enjoyed it."

"Ah, yeah, me too." Something was a bit off. It was as if a fog had descended upon her mind, and Sunny couldn't shake it. The man left with a smile and a wave, but the fog persisted, until the bell dinged ten minutes later, signalling another customer.

This one was a bit more intimidating. The lady wore a heavy black long-coat, even with the heat of the sun beating down on her back, and didn't seem to be the least bit uncomfortable with it. Her short hair was the colour of snow at night, and she smelt faintly of cigarette smoke and gunpowder. Sunny instantly disliked her.

"Afternoon," the newcomer said.

"To you too," Sunny replied, fog still buzzing but now more of a nuisance than anything.

"I'll have a blueberry muffin, nothing else," the woman said. Sunny dutifully nodded and snatched the item from the glass display case, bagging it and reaching over the counter to hand it over.

The woman snatched the bag, and Sunny's hand with it. "You haven't seen a young man come through here, have you?" she asked. "Average height, weight, maybe looks like he hasn't been getting much sun?"

Was this his sister? No, not possible. Instinctively, Sunny knew she wasn't going to say a damned thing to this lady, who had the nerve to march into an establishment and ask such rude questions. "Afraid not, she said, tugging her hand from the other woman's strong grip. "Sorry, ma'am."

When she looked at her hand, there was a curious symbol on it. Sunny hadn't ever gotten a tattoo, and if she had it certainly wouldn't be there. This one was some sort of squiggly line, crossed with another squiggly line, crossed with another…

"Let's try this again," Natalia Kaminski said, as she left a few coins on the counter and tore into her muffin with small, sharp bites. "Have you recently encountered a man that is obviously not from around here? He likely has a German accent and may or may not appear to be malnourished."

"Yes ma'am," Sunny found herself saying. "Came in and ordered breakfast. We had a good long talk."

"Great," Natalia said, satisfied with both the muffin and the answer. "You just saved me a lot of trouble. Now spill."

Sunny didn't say anything.

Natalia rolled her eyes. "Describe him. How did he introduce himself?"

"Y'know," Sunny began. "I don't even remember getting his name. I must've asked, but I just can't…"

"Forget it," Natalia said. She knew well enough that her mark was too smart to let such personal details slip. She took another look at Sunny. The woman was frazzled, her eyes unfocused. She wasn't going to get much out of this one. "When did he leave and where did he go?"

"Oh!" Sunny perked up. "He said he was going to pick up something at the pharmacy. Left about ten minutes ago. I was just cleaning up his dishes when you came in."

But Natalia was already gone, leaving behind a half-eaten muffin and a bill.

"That poor sister of his," Sunny continued, speaking to empty air. "Apparently she's quite sick. From how he described her, she sounds like the loveliest girl…"

.../\\...

Natalia ran. It didn't matter that her overcoat was heavy, or that the sun beat down on her back overhead, or that some people were gawking. She ran through the streets because she was close, closer than she'd been in a week, and she wasn't about to let her mark slip away.

Ahead of her, buzzing through the air, flew a _dorcus titanius palawanicus_ , more commonly known as a subspecies of the Giant Stag Beetle. At ten centimeters it was big enough to bite off a man's finger. This one specifically had been modified into a familiar, allowing the tree-borne beetle to fly, but more importantly, to track down minute traces of magical energy that even a sensitive magus would miss. In this case, the scent it had captured in Sunny's Diner led it straight down the road, and Natalia had no intention of losing the trail.

They reached a four-way intersection, one of the few in the small town. Luck wasn't on Natalia's side; the light turned red moments before she reached her crossing. The beetle didn't wait, buzzing straight across.

Neither did Natalia. She dashed forward, diving past a frantically beeping Porsche and leaping over an ancient 1937 Ford that skidded to a halt the moment its driver spotted her in the window. Gasps from the handful of people watching weren't even considered; she had much more important things to worry about. The last obstacle was a Kenworth truck that towered a full story over her and was as tough as a tank.

Natalia grit her teeth, narrowed her eyes, and tripped.

She flipped, drawing her greatcoat over her body and preserving momentum by rolling straight under the high undercarriage of the truck, for a moment seeing nothing and feeling nothing but nausea and rough concrete underneath, and hearing the rumbling of an engine.

Then she was on the other side, and sprang to her feet, dashing past a bewildered old lady as she chased down the Stag Beetle in broad daylight.

It wasn't raining. It wasn't a gloomy night or even a slightly foggy one. The small town didn't have a depressing bone in its body, and Natalia couldn't have come up with a single relevant hard-boiled quip if her life depended on it. But she was already thinking of the dark things, of tiny tricks and ploys that would put her one step closer to putting a bullet in the man's brain.

The beetle made a right turn into an alley as hard as could be done mid-air. Were it a car, it'd have skidded. Natalia grabbed the edge of a building, dug her fingers into the soft brick, and pivoted, sparing no time for slowing down. At the edge of her vision, for a moment so short it could've been imagined, she saw what was either a mote of dust or the edge of a sleeve disappearing around the next bend.

She pushed harder, feeling the burning in her legs that came partially from Reinforcement and partially from good old-fashioned weariness. She hurdled over a spilt trash can, ducked under a low-hanging fire escape ladder, and as she turned the corner a Colt M1911A1 was in her right hand. It was slightly heavier than she was used to thanks to the addition of a silencer on the end, magically enhanced to eliminate all noise from a shot. Not her usual style, but in a small town investigation it was imperative to keep a lower profile than her target, so she'd reluctantly prepared it.

It was perhaps that addition that prevented a kill. The additional weight lowered her aim just the slightest bit, and the needed compensation sacrificed just enough accuracy to matter in one out of a hundred shots. She let loose the moment her eyes saw something resembling a human body. It was an almost impossible shot at the best of times. The path of the bullet was millimeters from the brick wall's edge, but it flew true. Natalia saw a splash of red blood and heard a muffled grunt of pain before the man disappeared around the other end of the alley, running out into the open street.

Natalia pursued, as did the beetle, but she knew in her heart that it was too late. When she reached the opening she was greeted by a sidewalk, half a dozen cars, and a crowded street full of people participating in some kind of indigenous parade. The mark was nowhere to be seen.

"Fuck," Natalia cursed. She looked back to the beetle, but it buzzed around in confusion, not flying far from the alley exit. He must have realized she'd been tracking him and emitted a pure burst of magical energy to mask his signature. They hadn't been lying when they said this was a slippery one. First sighting since she'd arrived and he'd managed to slip away from her.

Well, it hadn't been a complete loss.

Natalia fished out a plastic bag and a pair of forceps, picking up a slightly smoking bullet from the ground and placed it carefully in a plastic bag, which was then promptly stuffed into her jacket next to the Colt. It was covered in blood. Obviously not a fatal wound, but that wasn't what she cared about.

Natalia retreated into the alley, leaving the locals to celebrate. She pulled a portable radio from her pocket, tuned it to a specific frequency, and depressed a button on its side.

"Come in," she said. "It's me."

Static, and then a fuzzy voice with a German accent similar to the man's, though she had no way of knowing it, "Did you get him?"

"No. You were right; he's a weasel. I lost him in the parade. He threw off that tracker of yours pretty quickly."

There was a flurry of cursing and a few pointless insults about her not being fast enough to capitalize on an advantage, and then, "He knows me too well. He must have anticipated this. Now he'll be twice as careful, and we're left with _null_."

"Not exactly," Natalia said. "I did get one thing."

"The Crest?"

She laughed. "If I had that, we'd be heading back already. Not that, but think of it as the next best thing."

"A fucking drink that isn't piss water?"

She held up the plastic bag with the bullet, staring at the splotches of red in it. "A blood sample," she said.

"What? That's useless! We have plenty of DNA from before he ran!"

"A very _recent_ blood sample."

The radio was silent, and then erupted with laughter. Natalia joined in, chuckling at some unseen joke.

"Oh, you're good, buddy," she said to herself, switching the radio off.

"You're good, but I'm better."


	2. Chapter 2

_"That's... a lot of guns. Do you collect them?"_

 _"No. Anything a collector takes becomes lessened in the process. These are just tools of the trade."_

* * *

The Clock Tower was a magical place, but it could also be a smelly one. Natalia Kaminski briefly considered Reinforcing her lungs as she passed by a particularly noxious room. The Zoology department was known to be an unpleasant environment for clean freaks, and said assumption had turned out to be more than accurate. The old stone building hadn't been made to isolate fine scents and signals, and magical tampering could only go so far. Each room was a separate biome prepared by its respective Magus, marked as such by simple steel plates bolted above every door, and each room _leaked_ just a tiny bit. Natalia counted the numbers as she paced, stopping when she reached 315. She pushed past the slightly ajar door and was greeted by a room that seemed to double as both an office and a petting zoo.

It was the size of a small gymnasium. Most of that space was taken up by a miniature mountain that ascended to the ceiling, with the rest being various enclosures. At a writing desk at the very corner of the room, covered in droppings and sleeping mice, sat a thin, disheveled man. He half-turned to greet Natalia as she intruded, met her eyes, split into a toothy grin, and swiveled back to a grubby paper full of statistics.

"You're early," said Gerard Leone, the office's owner. He took a moment to pet a shaved Santa Cruz sheep that bumped into his leg, and then scribbled his signature on a few more papers and pushed them out of the way. "The list's not here yet." For as long as he'd known her, Natalia had rarely been one for wasting time.

"Nice to see you, too," Natalia said. It even _smelled_ like a petting zoo. An extinct Badlands Bighorn bumped up against the back of her legs, and she took it as a sign to take a seat on its strengthened back. It wasn't her first visit. "Ever consider getting an air freshener?"

"Wouldn't last a minute," replied Gerard. He shuffled a few papers into various drawers, finishing his work, and then turned, leaning back against his desk to get a good look at Natalia. She was still the beauty he'd known for four years, but the complete lack of warmth in the way she carried herself had long since killed off any interests he might have had. Even the more sensitive animals were wary around her. "The department head tried to implement a clean air policy once. It couldn't have been more of a failure. No one cares enough except the visitors, and we've no obligation to impress them."

"That hurts, Jerry."

"Don't call me that," he wanted to say, but Gerard's rebuttal was interrupted by the flapping wings of a Racing Homer. The pigeon slipped through the door and settled on Gerard's head, cooing softly. He swiftly detached a small parcel from its legs. "Guess you're not early," he said. "Here." He tossed Natalia a tiny book. When she opened it, the pages ballooned until it was the width of her hand. The bird, meanwhile, was swiftly put into one of the many cages lining the walls of the room, though not without enough fight to have Gerard cursing and nursing a bloody finger by the end.

Natalia flipped through the book. "It gets thicker every time," she remarked. "Even with us freelancers doing our best, it's like we haven't made a dent."

"People are losing it," Gerard complained. "You nab one crazy, two more show up."

"Mm." The hit list had every single wanted magus in the world printed on it. Most freelancers were content with publicly available bounties, but there was an entirely different level that few knew about. Some magi had grudges, other wanted their jobs done discreetly, and a few didn't want just anyone chasing after their target. Getting the full list meant finding a guy, and Gerard was Natalia's guy, working his smelly job at Zoology and giving her a new list every few months in exchange for whatever small request popped into his mind at the moment. Normally he'd fax in new cases, but every so often a visit was necessary, just to remind him that she hadn't bit the dust yet.

Natalia stopped near the back, where the most dangerous bounties were. "Didn't know Vorzak got upgraded," she noted.

"Oh, he went off the deep end," said Gerard as he thumbed through a sheaf of files that looked to have been chewed on. "Did a number on the Enforcer the Association sent his way. Guy came back half-dead, raving about demonic bees. I'd stay away from that one if I were you."

"Well you're not," Natalia said. Gerard could almost think it was a joke. "Maybe next time." She thumbed through the book, arriving at the end scowling. "Got anything that pays out more?"

Gerard laughed. "Not unless you bring the Vice Director an Ancestor's head on a stick. Why, suddenly got a hankering for some luxury in your life?"

In fact, the reason was simple; Natalia was feeding twice as many people after the Alimango incident. But she'd be damned if she let the Association know that. "Just gimme the good stuff," she said. "I need cash and I need it fast."

"What you need is a savings account," Gerard quipped, but he acquiesced and pulled a page out of his file. He handed it to Natalia. "Take a look. Special assignment. Just came in yesterday. I didn't tell you, but the Association's been trying to nab this guy for weeks. Two enforcers were on his tail until he ran overseas, and now they're getting cold feet at the thought of going so far from home."

The mark was fairly unassuming compared to the average. No sunken eyes, no pale skin or deformations. No withered or unusual hair and no Mystic Eyes glaring out of the page. He could've passed for a regular Joe in normal society, which gave Natalia pause. But one look at the price tag and she knew there was no putting it down.

"Sealed?"

"Yep. But it'll be open season in a month. They're giving it one more shot and then leaving it alone. Not worth the resources, see. Guy's not especially dangerous, but he's a pain to nail down."

"And you thought I couldn't handle him? Spit it out. Why you keep something like this a secret?"

"'Cus there's a catch." There always was. "It's a two-person job. Non-negotiable. One of the enforcers bailed, but the other one's raring to go and isn't picky about the partner." Natalia's expression was self-explanatory. "Yeah, that's what I thought. You always work alone, don't you?"

Natalia stared at the target, not answering. He was so _mundane_. Even Gerard, a rather tame Magus by most standards, smelt of a dozen different animals, several of which were either legally extinct or didn't actually exist, and looked like he didn't know one end of a razor from the other. But this one, that had been Designated to be Sealed by the Association, was the picture of normalcy.

Weisse Spielmann. Twenty-seven years old. Third son of the eight-generation Spielmann family. Talented at Anthropology, specializing in soul-soul interactions with a minor focus in flesh manipulation. Dropped out of his classes before graduation due to unsatisfactory results. Despite poor performance as a magus, he was considered a dangerous hazard and was to be captured with high priority, dead or alive. The file made no mention of why he'd been Sealed in the first place, but then again, few ever did.

Natalia handed back the paper, her brows furrowed. "Every girl's got her price," she said. "I'll take it."

"Didn't think I'd see the day!" Gerard didn't bother hiding his surprise. "Well, it's your funeral. I'll call and set things up. Ever been to Perth?"

"Which one?"

"The one in the middle of nowhere."

.../\\...

Emiya Kiritsugu had never been on a plane before. His first ride was a nervous one, not helped by the fact that it was an overseas trip, or that the Boeing 707 on which he rode had a habit of shaking terribly when they so much as neared any clouds. He gave up on looking out the window after the third straight hour of sky and ocean.

"Natalia," he said, turning to his companion. "My ears hurt. Is that normal?"

Natalia opened her eyes. She looked over, saw a pale young boy shivering in his seat, and sighed. "Swallow," she advised. "Or ask one of the other passengers for some chewing gum. It's just the air pressure. You'll be fine."

That shut him up for a good fifteen minutes, as the boy experimented with various expressions and contortions until the pain was finally gone. Of course, a child's inquisitiveness is infinite.

"Natalia," he asked. "Why did you bring me along? You always left me alone for your other jobs."

This time she didn't even bother opening her eyes. "Because this could take more than a week, kiddo. I can't leave you to fend for yourself for longer than a day."

"So I can-?"

"No," she said. "You get to stay in a nice hotel, eat good food, and walk around while I'm working, all on the Association's dime."

Kiritsugu bit his lip and looked around. All the other passengers were either snoozing or clearly didn't care. "But what if you need help?" he whispered.

"I'll have a partner for that. Get some sleep."

"I can't." Kiritsugu fidgeted, uncomfortable in his small seat with little in the way of leg room. "It's too shaky. What if the plane crashes?" In a situation like this, he was almost a normal child. Almost.

Natalia gave him a rare smirk. "It won't. You can bring down one of these things with a crappy RPG, but it'll survive any weather short of a hurricane."

"What about a typhoon? A cyclone?"

"Same thing, kiddo."

"But what about-!"

"Just keep watch." Natalia pulled out the earplugs that had been distributed on the plane earlier, stuffed them in her ears, closed her eyes, and leaned back, deciding that at least _she_ would be getting some sleep. Kids were annoying.

.../\\...

The airport at Perth was like a well-oiled machine that hadn't made it through a ten-car collision. A burst of heat was the first thing that greeted the travellers, blowing away expectations that Australia would be anything like Britain. They touched down and were sped through customs and arrivals thanks to a liberal application of hypnotism and forged documentation, especially necessary for Kiritsugu, who only had the foggiest idea of what a passport was. Seeing delays and poor service at every corner, perhaps owing to the fact that the airport only had a single functioning terminal, Natalia was glad for the smaller conveniences of magecraft.

They rented an old Range Rover that Natalia had taken a liking to and bought enough jerry cans of petrol to last a week. The next four hours were spent buying various supplies and preparing, and then they were off. Perth was smaller than London, and they saw very little of it, since the airport was several kilometres from the city centre. Kiritsugu, now off the plane, returned to quiet, introspective boy she'd grown used to. At one point Natalia thought to turn on the radio.

 _"I fell in to a burning ring of fire._  
 _I went down, down, down,_  
 _And the flames went higher._  
 _And it burns, burns, burns,_  
 _The ring of fire…"_

She switched it off upon seeing Kiritsugu's face, and resolved not to touch the damn thing for the rest of their stay.

Swiftly they reached the city limits, and it was then that the heat started to become truly offensive. Perth was mostly fine thanks to its proximity to the ocean, but the further they traveled inland, the hotter it got. The clear skies offered no protection; only the clean air rushing through the car as they barreled along helped stave off the heat. Occasionally they would see some large wonder in the distance, from intricate rock formations to scars in the ground that could've been the results of grand battles between Heroes or simply the erosion of time, but such things were rare. It was mostly just flat and uninteresting outback. Over the course of several hours, the roads made a slow transition from clean highways to well-worn dirt. Towns and roadside petrol station were few and far between as they headed inland. After a few hours and a handful of turns, it truly did feel like the middle of nowhere, with only the odd road sign to remind them of civilization. Several times Kiritsugu glimpsed animals, giving their car a wide berth.

They parked near an almost empty town called Wiluna to rest for the night, after twelve straight hours of driving.

"Natalia," Kiritsugu asked the next morning, following a fitful night of poor sleep. "Where are we going?"

"A small town called Black Spot," she replied, staring straight up at the morning sky. "Weisse Spielmann is hiding there, furthering his experiments."

"Like my dad." There was an unspoken question in his words. Natalia saw no reason not to answer.

"It won't be like Alimango. The target this time is a Hermit. It's in his best interest not to make any waves. He's likely holed up there, trying not to attract attention. It'll be quick and clean."

"And no one gets hurt?"

Natalia gave him a rueful smile. "Only him. Now, do you know how to drive?"

"Eh? No…"

"Good." She braked, bringing the Rover to a sudden stop in the middle of the road. There wasn't anyone to be seen in any direction. Natalia undid her seatbelt and pushed open the driver side door. She turned off the engine and handed the bewildered boy the keys. "By the end of today, you will."

.../\\...

Another solid day of driving brought them where they needed to go, passing by an endless series of hills, dotted with shrubs and acacia trees. It hadn't taken too long to get used to the climate; for Kiritsugu it was close enough to Alimango, and Natalia had traveled enough to not mind.

The town sat nestled between a horseshoe-shaped range of low hills peppered with thicker tree cover than was normal. Just from a glance, Natalia couldn't tell what reason it had for existing, nor why it had gotten its name. The sign near the outskirts revealed nothing:

'Welcome to Black Spot.  
A refuge from the world.'

Natalia, who'd taken over again, stopped the Rover right before the sign. She exited and stepped right up to it, opening her mouth and tasting the air with her tongue like a snake. Kiritsugu was still sleeping in the back seat.

"Barrier field," she noted. "Well made, too. Was it Spielmann…?"

"Yes." Something sharp pressed against her back. Natalia could feel it through her reinforced overcoat. She hadn't sensed a thing. "Now, stranger, you'll tell me what you're doing here."

"Business," she said. "Nice to meet you too."

"Turn around."

She did. There was a combat knife pointed straight at her heart. The man was identical to the picture of Spielmann, except for longer hair, an unshaven chin, and one eye perpetually closed. "Sloppy," he sneered. Then he stiffened.

Kiritsugu pressed a Calico firmly against the man's back. "S-sloppy," he said. "Drop it."

The man laughed, lowering the knife and holstering it. "So it is you," he said. "Klaus Spielmann, Enforcer." In place of the knife, he extended one hand.

Natalia took it. "Natalia Kaminski. Freelancer. We've got a lot to talk about, partner."


End file.
